


What Remembering Changes

by TheImaginitiveBabbler



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Albus Dumbledore Being an Idiot, BAMF Minerva McGonagall, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Child Neglect, Childhood Memories, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Dreams, Dreams of past, Dumbledore Cares, Dumbledore isn't sure what to think, Dumbledore's Secrets, F/M, Flashbacks, Gen, Good Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter & Ron Weasley Friendship, Harry Potter is a Good Friend, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Professors, Invisibility Cloak (Harry Potter), McGonagall is done, McGonagall vs. Dursleys, McGonagall vs. Snape, Memories, Misguided Albus Dumbledore, Mom Friend Ron Weasley, Neglected Harry Potter, Oblivious Albus Dumbledore, Other, Post-Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Protective Hedwig, Protective Minerva McGonagall, Protective Ron Weasley, Recovered Memories, Repressed Memories, Ron Calls Dumbledore Out, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Smart Ron Weasley, Snape's Issues with the Potters, Summer at Hogwarts, Teacher-Student Relationship, The Cupboard Under The Stairs (Harry Potter), The Golden Trio, Thoughts of Past Times and Relationships, minor abuse, regretful albus dumbledore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24560572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheImaginitiveBabbler/pseuds/TheImaginitiveBabbler
Summary: Harry has been through a lot during his first year. Dumbledore is well aware of that. What he did not know was about the dreams Harry had been having. Dreams of the first year of his life before a once happy family was broken. These dreams of the past, along with protective friends and family are what change Harry's path, giving him and his friends the chance to do more than they thought they could.Dumbledore has to rethink his plans for the Boy-Who-Lived, after the people who care enough to see the truth set his priorities straight. Harry is given a new home, a new chance, and above all a new life that he chooses to base on what he learns of his past from his dreams. This includes rebuilding the Marauders legacy in a new way and preparing for what's to come. It's not like he's oblivious to the fact Voldemort will keep coming after him, right?
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore & Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore & Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore & Rubeus Hagrid, Albus Dumbledore & Severus Snape, Dumbledore & Students, Filius Flitwick & Rubeus Hagrid, Golden Trio & Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hedwig & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry & Harry Potter, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Minerva McGonagall & Golden Trio, Minerva McGonagall & Harry Potter, Minerva McGonagall & Pomona Sprout, Minerva McGonagall & Students, Neville Longbottom & Harry Potter, Rubeus Hagrid & Harry Potter, Weasleys & Harry Potter
Comments: 13
Kudos: 161





	1. It's About More Than His Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of something I previously had on FF. I hope you all enjoy it.
> 
> Also, be aware, I am in no way, shape or form, the owner of Harry Potter, nor an expert on a subject I write about. I would always love to hear what you have to tell me if I write something that offends someone or is just wrong. Enjoy!

By the time the long, worrying, and eventful night had ended, there were many things that Albus Dumbledore had come to regret. Each and every one of these regrets revolved around the wellbeing and more precisely the fate of one eleven-year-old boy. Harry Potter’s destiny was never one of a normal child, but now Albus saw how somehow, he’d removed the word childhood almost completely from the vocabulary making up the boy’s life.

Yet, somehow the child had one of the purest hearts Albus had seen in his (at least a hundred year long) life. Such was proven by the stone still clutched in his hand when Albus had found him. And for all that he was coming to regret, he was thankful for Harry and that somehow the boy had found the stone.

That night, when he’d left the castle for duty as the Supreme Mugwump at the Wizengamot, he’d done what he did every time he left the school without his protection. He checked over the wards and looked at the protections around the stone to see that all was in order as he left before leaving Minerva in charge. Apparently, his old age had not given him the wisdom to listen to his instincts. It was only after he started his work at the Ministry that he decided to turn back.

It was lucky he did. The boy’s friends hadn’t even made it to the owlery to contact him when he’d returned. He wasn’t sure what had prompted the decision, but if he hadn’t come back things would have been much worse. That was, if not for Harry. Only someone with the noblest of desires, with the want to help with no selfishness in any part of him could have done it. When Albus had arrived in the final chamber it was to see Harry looking feverish as Quirrell burned away under his grasp. Harry’s other hand reached for the headmaster grasping feverishly as Albus picked him up, pulled the stone out of his hand, pocketed it, and carried the boy to the hospital wing.

The other children were there waiting, trying to keep Madam Pomfrey from giving them calming potion as they asked about Harry. McGonagall appeared as frazzled as the children and gasped when she saw Albus return with Harry in his arms.

“Harry!” Ron and Hermione immediately looked up as Dumbledore laid the black-haired boy into a bed. Ron tried to get up but Madam Pomfrey pushed back into the bed and ran to look over at Harry.

Dumbledore took a seat close enough to keep an eye as Madam Pomfrey did her work but not near enough to be in the way. He looked towards McGonagall and Snape who both stood there waiting.

“The stone?”

“The stone?” yelled Ron. “What about Harry?”

“Mr. Potter will be fine,” Pomfrey hushed him. “If you go to bed and sleep then you will see so in the morning. Ms. Granger, it will do you some good to take that calming potion and get some rest yourself. You may come and visit in the morning.”

“But—”

Looks from both Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall made Hermione sigh as she said goodbye to Ron and made him promise to look after Harry. McGonagall had moved to shoo her out and try and get Ron to sip his drought.

Snape had kept his focus on Dumbledore trying to ignore both boys in their hospital beds and the women fussing over them.

“The stone is safe,” Dumbledore said finally. He turned back to the boy with a soft look in his eyes. “Thanks to Miss Granger, Messrs. Potter, and Weasley.”

Snape scoffed. His arms were crossed, and his black eyes had not moved from Dumbledore. “Three first years. What kind of protections was it that they were able to get past it?”

“Enough Severus.” Dumbledore would not explain his reasoning any of the times he’d been asked.“Many full-grown witches and wizards would have panicked and not survived such scenarios. Professor Quirrell being one of them. We are just lucky that Mr. Potter and his friends have proven themselves not to be ordinary.”

He ignored Snape’s mutterings about filling the boy’s head with praise and dismissed him. The potions master’s cape swept away, blending into the black night just beyond the door. His absence allowed the tendrils of darkness and silence to seep into the hospital wing, so loud only moments ago. Now it was nearly silent, with only the occasional tutting from Madam Pomfrey as she worked.

Dumbledore sat and watched the entire time. Even when Madam Pomfrey asked him to leave, he stayed to watch while she went to her office in resignation. His eyes rested on the scars above the boy’s thick fluttering lashes. After tonight it wasn’t the only mark on his face, but it was still the most outstanding. A marker of his history and of his destiny.

His hand reached unconsciously to swipe the hair off the boy’s forehead. A strong voice in the darkness stopped the action and his thoughts on their track. Sitting up in his bed was the youngest Weasley boy, evidently not asleep.

“Did you mean for it to happen?” Dumbledore turned his focus from Harry startled as the other boy continued. “Because Snape’s question made me think. And I’m not as smart as Hermione or anything, but I can put together the pieces if I need to. The tests were things we learned about this year. You knew Harry could sneak out. You saw his cloak. Did you want him to do this?”

Ron’s icy blue glaze gestured to his unconscious friend before moving back to Dumbledore’s own blue eyes. Dumbledore was studying him as much as he was studying Dumbledore. Finally, the old headmaster sighed. “I knew about the cloak. I was the one to give it to him, as it is his. And I meant the words I sent along with it. _Use it well.”_

“ _Use it well_ ,” Ron repeated with a scowl. “To go after the stone, you mean. You’ve been moving the pieces on the board all year. Harry’s just your pawn.”

Dumbledore became rigid and fixed the young man with a stern gaze. “Harry’s destiny, his future may be influenced by people like you and me, but it is well out of our hands.”

“Then why were the tests so easy? And why did you send him with Hagrid to Diagon Alley when he got the stone? You’re supposed to be the smartest person there is! No one is dumb enough to do all that without a reason.”

With another sigh, the Headmaster turned back to his thoughts for a moment. He had told the truth. He had not meant for this. Harry’s destiny was up to two people, only himself and Lord Voldemort. Yet, Ron Weasley was correct in sensing his influence. Perhaps he had done it unknowingly, perhaps not.

“You are correct that the protections can all be beaten by first years. You learn about magical creatures like a Cerberus and troll in Defense Against the Dark Arts, learn about Devils’ Snare in Herbology, and learned to fly. It is easy to forget things we learn in our earlier years. I doubt many full-grown witches and wizards would have gotten as far as the troll.

“It was the final three protections that mattered the most. The chess match, which you beat is something only a few strategic minds could accomplish. Not many are able to beat Professor McGonagall in Wizard’s Chess. In fact, I’d like to test my skills against yours at one point if you’re so inclined.”

Ron’s ears were noticeably red, but he crossed his arms after a moment. “That’s not an answer.”

“It is part of one. Like the chess match, Ms. Granger helped Harry pass a challenge only a few could pass. Returning from that challenge is nearly impossible without help from Professor Snape or I. After all, once inside the final chamber the test is getting the stone. I shall allow Harry to tell you that part, but I assure you. Neither Professor Quirrell nor Lord Voldemort could have gotten to it. They would have been left waiting even if they did with no way out of the chamber, only surviving on the Elixir of life. And what is there to enjoy of life if you’re stuck in a dungeon room alone with nothing to experience?”

Ron stayed silent for a moment. “A trap.”

“Exactly. Perhaps I made it a bit too easy to access. I had no intention of you or your friends getting hurt.”

There was another moment of silence as Ron digested all of this. Dumbledore’s words had revealed enough. He’d lived with Fred and George and he knew how to read between the lines. The headmaster meant to catch Voldemort before he got to the stone. There was also no coincidence in the skills being so catered to Harry and his friends. Whatever the last test was, only Harry could have done it. Dumbledore had likely planned to keep the stone there until Harry retrieved it, however long that took. It was some type of test or training.

Finally, Ron nodded. “I believe you.

“Would you mind telling me why?” Dumbledore said his eyes twinkling once again.

“Harry,” Ron said simply.

Dumbledore turned to where the other boy was beside him confused. “Enlighten me. I’m afraid I still don’t understand.”

“You care about him. He told me about everything at Christmas, and when Hermione and I saw you… You were worried.”

There was another moment of silence. Dumbledore finally pulled the hair away from Harry’s scar. He pulled the boy’s glasses from his pocket and fixed them with a tap of his wand before placing them on the bedside table.

“There. Now that that is done,” he said turned back to Ron Weasley. “I worry about all my students.”

“Not like that,” Ron shook his head. He looked towards his friend gently. “If anyone needs to be cared about, it’s Harry.”

Dumbledore nodded. “There are many that would agree. He is a special—”

“No. Not because of that. It’s because he doesn’t know how it is when someone worries about him or cares for him. You should have seen him when he got presents at Christmas. I don’t think he ever got any before.”

Dumbledore stiffened once more and turned carefully back to the redhead trying not to show how surprised he was by the statement. “Did Harry get many gifts? His relatives sent something, did they not?”

“Money. Hermione says it’s worth less than a knut. My mum made him a sweater and some sweets. And he got stuff from you, Hagrid and Hermione.” He was interrupted when Harry turned suddenly and muttered a little in his sleep. Dumbledore startled. Ron sighed. “Don’t worry. He does that a lot.”

“Does that wake you often?”

Ron went on to explain that he needed to be a deep sleeper if he wanted to rest because of all the noise in the burrow, but sometimes when Harry fell asleep before him or was still asleep when he woke, he heard it. The other’s in their dorm had said so as well. “All you need to do is wake him up or wait. He stops then. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it most the time. He doesn’t always remember his dreams.”

“Ah, that we all could remember those things that visit us in the night.”

Ron blushed again suddenly. “Professor?”

“Yes, Mr. Weasley.”

“I’m not in trouble. Am I?”

“No. I rather enjoy being told when I’m wrong. It doesn’t happen often, and it is the best way to improve.”

There was a small shake of the head. “Not for that. For the stone. Hermione says she did too well to get expelled. But…”

“No. You are not in trouble. I think you have learned your lesson about what follows this type of adventure. All that will happen is your mother will receive a small notice that you broke your arm.”

“And Harry?”

“Is in no trouble either.”

“But will you write to the muggles? Cause I don’t think it matters much either way.”

“I suppose so.” Dumbledore sighed. “Now get some rest Mr. Weasley or Madam Pomfrey will be upset at both of us. I see you have given me a lot to think about.”


	2. An Old Man's Reasoning

Dumbledore stood and left behind the two boys as he processed the conversation, he'd just had with the youngest Weasley son. First, he knew he had to return to his office, where the heads of houses waited for him along with Hagrid. All had provided protection to the stone and been alerted about what just happened.

As he walked from the lower floors up to the Seventh, he took the slowest route he knew to give him time to think. The other professors would likely question his choice of protections again. He had told Ron the truth, but yes, it had also been a test. He kept an eye on Harry this year, having Hagrid report to him first after meeting him, then asking portraits or professors.

He knew the boy had made friends with the Weasley kids. Just as with Hagrid, the Weasleys would help instill Harry with the right values and loyalties. The boy didn't show much potential to his professors, though he was a good student. He didn't make the top marks like either of his parents had in their years at Hogwarts. Yet, on Halloween, a day Dumbledore was watching the boy more closely than usual, he showed the bravery expected of his house.

Dumbledore had been sure Harry would be upset that entire day. There was no sign of sadness and tears, only excitement for the feast. The tears came from his housemate, Miss Granger. The way the three children interacted after that night was something of beauty. It reminded him of James Potter and his friends if they had been a bit less conceited and more focused on other priorities.

But James had not had to focus on any of that. Neither had Lily. In some ways, Harry was so much like both of his parents. Dumbledore knew he missed them, especially after their talk in front of the Mirror during the holidays. Harry, like him, just wanted a family that loved him.

It was that talk along with everything Ron Weasley had told him that Dumbledore dwelled on most. One year of watching the boy didn't make up for the past years he'd completely neglected the boy. It hadn't seemed to hugely affect Harry, he grew up as Dumbledore wanted, unaware of his fame and the world in store for him. Harry, just like every other student, was in awe of all that Hogwarts offered.

Harry was very much, unlike most children he had seen, as much as he was similar to them. Dumbledore would have to wait until the boy woke to speak to him properly, but his friend's insights were enough to get him thinking.

He had finally made it to the fourth floor, he gave his Gargoyle the password and watched it move aside so he could climb more stairs to his tower study. Inside were the assembled professors.

Flitwick was awkwardly comforting a crying Hagrid. Snape stood in the corner in the gloom. Meanwhile, McGonagall stood with Sprout moving between ranting and worrying about her students. When Albus entered the room and caught her eye she turned her energy toward him.

"Will you tell us exactly what happened now? I've only just got Miss Granger to sleep with that calming draught. I had one student in the body locker curse on the floor of my common room. And I have two other students in the hospital wing."

"The protections, Albus, what happened?" Flitwick questioned

"What 'bout Harry?" Hagrid sobbed. "Poor boy has had 'nough happen to him in the past. Will he be alright?"

"Then there is the matter of Quirrell and the Dark Lord."

Albus sighed as he held up his hands a shoulder-width apart as a plea for silence. The others quieted for a moment and turned their heads to watch as he walked to his desk. He picked up a device for one moment and quickly put it down again. His eyes met McGonagall's first.

"Minerva, they are your students. I for once am still figuring the entire matter out. Now, which other student was involved in all of this?"

"Neville Longbottom. The boy was blubbering. It was that mess with Malfoy all over again. Except this time, he was telling the truth."

Sprout put a hand on McGonagall's shoulder. "Perhaps it wasn't just this time."

"I owe him an apology then. As well as Potter, Granger, and Weasley. I was just so shocked they'd found out about the stone. They tried telling me and I didn't listen," McGonagall clutched her hands.

Sprout looked around the room. "How did they even find out about the stone in the first place?"

"That's my fault professor. Harry was with me when I got the stone. He didn't stop asking me 'bout what it was. I spilled some things accidentally."

Several of the other professors shared looks while Albus assured Hagrid it was not his fault. There was another moment of silence outside of Hagrid's sobs. Flitwick broke it by looking to the Headmaster. "I am sure the children were able to figure it out from there. Miss Granger is exceptionally bright. As are the other two when they put in the effort."

"They knew 'bout Fluffy," Hagrid murmured. "Beginning of the year too."

"Potter sticks his nose in many places where it doesn't belong. I'm not surprised. I've said from the beginning that he was an attacking seeking brat. This is just his latest way to flaunt his so-called fame and power."

Sprout had to stop McGonagall from charging towards the head of Slytherin. Hagrid started to defend Harry when Albus spoke up. "Now Severus, I'm sure if you got to know the boy you would see that is not true."

"So, then what did happen, why would our protections be simple enough for a first-year? I know for a fact that mine, something exceedingly simple, was one of the most challenging."

"Yes. Miss Granger did quite well with that. As Mr. Weasley did with Minerva's chess set."

McGonagall's mouth thinned as she sighed. "Still, they are first years Albus. Only eleven and twelve. They might be bright and talented but why should they have to face such things?"

"And I thank you all again for trusting me and not questioning me before this moment," Albus said looking across each of the teachers' faces. "Firstly, I shall assure you Harry will be fine after some rest. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for Quirinus Quirrell."

All of the teachers looked down.

"As for what happened beneath the school… Well, firstly there is the fact that both Voldemort and several first-year students were able to get past our protections."

"Protections simple and easy for most," McGonagall said harshly.

"But that wasn't the only thing, was it?" Flitwick asked. "It was a trap."

"Yes. Is it not easy for full-grown wizards to forget what they learned in their first years at school? And those who do remember find such things so easy that their pride grows as they continue."

"You wanted to lead You-Know-Who into a trap with his pride?"

"It worked? Did it not? As for the first years. Most children would not be tempted to go through with such a mission. As I warned them at the beginning of the year against the first-floor corridor, many were not curious enough to even look, some of those who were were turned back by the locked door and if not that by Fluffy. For even those who figured that he was there guarding something would not seek its value for more than their own lives."

Dumbledore turned toward Flitwick then Snape with a meaningful look. They both knew he was speaking of the Ravenclaws and Slytherin. Then he turned to McGonagall and Sprout. "After all, is facing a Cerberus not a grand enough story for any Gryffindor to showcase their bravery? Even the most loyal could not all pass through together, as Miss Granger and Mr. Potter learned at Severus's test. My protection was something that one must face alone. And it was only a person like Harry that could have retrieved the stone from it. Never anyone who wished to use it."

"That's your reason?" McGonagall said.

"Minerva, listen carefully. No one would go after the stone unless they were truly greedy, and those that were would not be able to retrieve it. Harry only could because he did not wish to use it. He went after the stone to save it, not for a story, or to satisfy curiosity but because he knew it was in danger. It is because of that and loyalty that Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley followed him. Do you know many children who would do such a thing, not just tell an adult or cower in fear? I did not think any would."

She nodded in acceptance, but Dumbledore was not oblivious to the narrowing of Snape's eyes. Dumbledore stood again and continued. "Thankfully, the students are fine. The stone is safe and will be destroyed. The worst of this is that Nicholas and Pernelle will finally have to move on. That and what happened to poor Professor Quirrell."

The other Professors nodded.

"And what should I tell the others about Quirrell?" McGonagall said. "Or what happened to Weasley and Granger. Surely their parents must be told."

"That they were injured, yes. As for Quirrell, he has met an unfortunate accident, due to a long time coming nervous breakdown. The rest of the school will move on with the finishing of exams and the final quidditch match.

"Perhaps, you are right about the children. After all, they have been through tonight, especially Harry, I believe they could benefit from something to cheer them up. Hagrid, you are closest to him, do you have an idea?"

Hagrid nodded. "If ya gave me a day or two. I'll need some owls."

"Very well. You are all dismissed."

Hagrid left first, followed by Sprout and Flitwick. McGonagall lingered for a moment as if she would say something else but pursed her lips and left. Snape left his corner as she did to look at Dumbledore.

"I won't question you, but can you tell me anything? I watched the boy, and Quirrell as well as I could. You are still hiding more than you wish to say."

"As are you, aren't you Severus?"

Snape just looked at him silently and turned with a swish of his cloak toward the door leaving Dumbledore alone with Fawkes and his thoughts once again.


	3. Chapter 3: Questions of Eternal Youth and Age

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Italics are dialogue from books. All of this universe belongs to JKR.

The next few days were what Dumbledore had expected. McGonagall was in a fury when Gryffindor lost the Quidditch match. The fifth and seventh years finished their exams as the professors graded the work of other years. Stories were spreading about what Harry had done. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were pestered for details at every chance. And of course, Harry Potter slept on. 

Pomfrey had been busy caring for her patient. She did not kick out the Headmaster when he visited, nor Ron or Hermione until she felt it had been too long and they needed to leave. The two spent most of their time trying to see their friend. When they were not there, and the hospital wing was in its quiet hours, Dumbledore sat and watched the boy thinking about the past and future. 

He disillusioned himself when the Weasley twins snuck in at such a time with a Hogwarts toilet seat. It was one of the many gifts Harry had received. He himself had bought the boy some sweets, as had McGonagall. It seemed some others had contributed as well. The pile was growing high when Harry finally woke in a daze, then a panic. 

After Dumbledore managed to assure him all was well, after all, he and his friends were alright, even if he had slept for three days. The stone was safe, but at the same time lost forever. He sat and answered Harry’s questions, happy the boy was worried for Nicholas, or that in fact, he knew about Nicholas at all. If the boy’s future was anything like the prophecy said it would be, he should know. Death was but the next great adventure. 

Indeed, as Harry had observed, Voldemort was not gone. When he finished his explanation and the poor boy was able to focus enough to gather his thoughts, Harry had turned to the old man. “ _Sir, there are some other things I’d like to know, if you can tell me… things I want to know the truth about…”_

_“The truth. It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you’ll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie.”_ Harry waited a moment before asking dwelling that last line. Not lying did not mean omitting truths. Both knew that all too well. Dumbledore then took the chance to get his answers, answers to questions he’d had since the night he’d spoken to Ron Weasley. “But, after you have finished asking your questions, you must allow me to ask some of my own.”

Harry nodded. The conversation proceeded with some questions that had been expected, others not as much. It was not easy to refuse the boy the answer to his first question but revealing the prophecy this early would have a negative effect on his psyche. He would protect the boy as he had promised, as Lily had done with her blood protection.

He pretended not to notice Harry’s tears as he explained how Lily’s love had saved him. “Your mother’s love, and her blood, is a protection otherwise unmatched. I am unable to provide better protection, no matter how much I might wish I could. Your mother’s blood keeps you safe. It casts a protective barrier. One that has kept you safe for the past ten years of your life.”

Harry blinked at him in confusion. “I don’t understand, sir. What does that mean?”

“It means, the Dursley’s the one place that still has your mother’s blood, is the only place Voldemort could not reach you, nor any of his followers. It was relatively unknown and kept you out of the eyes of the magical world, who praised you as their savior, a heavy burden on such a young head.” 

This was true. He had never wanted Harry to be prideful, like James Potter, or so confident in how special his abilities were, like Tom Riddle. Lily had also been sure of herself and her powers. Harry would not think himself special, but a normal boy who had magic like many others. This was something he had carefully explained in the letter he had left with the boy, but by Hagrid’s account, nothing had been said to Harry before his eleventh birthday. 

It was indeed a miracle Harry had turned out so well. Of what McGonagall had said that November morning ten years ago was true. The Dursleys often behaved in a vile fashion. The boy with James’ charm, Lily’s sweet manners, both of their curiosity, in fact, an amalgam of the best of both his parents had somehow survived living in that home. 

Harry’s startled look gave him another reason for the invasion and use of Legillemency. He did not look in too far. He only looked at feelings, of the loneliness, longing, and pain the boy felt. It was something terrifyingly familiar. 

“Now, I believe it is my turn for a question. Do you believe that protection works?”

“Don’t you know?” Harry asked. 

“I am asking you for a reason Harry, and I believe we agreed to be truthful with each other. Now, do you think that protection worked? Were you protected from the magical world and Voldemort?”

“I guess. I mean, I saw a few strange things. People would come over and say hi or shake my hand when I was with Aunt Petunia. No one ever hurt me though.”

So, the protection had not been working completely. After all, it had to go both ways. Petunia had taken him in and made the place his home, but Harry had not felt it to be a home where he was safe and loved. Not like Lily would have wished. 

Dumbledore nodded. “Now that my curiosity on that has been satisfied, what else do you wish to ask me?”

_“The invisibility cloak – do you know who sent it to me?”_

_“Ah—your father happened to leave it in my possession._ I had been borrowing it the night Voldemort attacked your home. It was time it was returned to its proper owner. After all, an object like that can be of a lot of use. You have learned that, just as your father did. He also used the cloak during his time at school. Mostly it was for mischief of the likes the Weasley twins would create. He had friends, much like yours, who were loyal and followed him in his troublemaking endeavors.”

“Now, I would like to know what other mischiefs you got up to this past year. I know you discovered Hagrid’s Fluffy early on. And we both know how you found the mirror. But Gryffindor did lose house points during one night in particular.”

“We were trying to help.”

“So, what Mr. Malfoy said was true. Very well, I shall not tell anyone. It will all seem to be a part of some rivalry.” 

“Was that what Snape and my father were? Rivals? _Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?”_

Dumbledore nodded. “Professor Snape, Harry. And yes. They were much like you and Mr. Malfoy. But there was something that Professor Snape was never able to forget.”

_“What?”_

_“He saved his life.”_

_“What?”_

_“Yes…_ As I said, your father was a bit of a troublemaker. There was one prank that went particularly wrong and got more dangerous than it ever should have. Your father had no knowledge of it, but the moment he did, he went and stopped it, saving Snape’s life. Of course, this created a debt. Professor Snape likely feels he has finished owing that debt. Now he could hate your father as he wished.”

Harry scowled. 

“Now enough of this. We shall focus on happier topics. As you see, you have many gifts. I hope you don’t mind if I pilfer one. Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, perhaps? _I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit-flavored one, and since then I’m afraid I’ve rather lost my liking for them._ But one must always try again, yes? _I’ll be safe with a nice toffee._ ”

Harry took the box and chose one himself as Dumbledore exclaimed. “ _Alas! Ear wax.”_

“Sir, I do have one more question.”

“Ah, but I do have rather more than one myself. We shall see if you can think of any others after I have had my turn. Now, what is it you wish to ask?”

“ _How did I get the stone out of the mirror?”_

Dumbledore smiled and explained the plan he had and how Harry had managed it. He hoped Harry could understand he was proud of such a feat. He looked down at the boy softly when he’d finished explaining. “Now I can see you need your rest. Madam Pomfrey should be by soon to shoo me out the door. But Mr. Weasley said something the other night and I was wondering; how often do you have dreams?”

“Dreams?’’

“Yes, dreams. They are wondrous things. I had one myself the other day about a candy unicorn horn. Quite delicious. Now, your dreams. Do you have them often, and are there any specific ones you would like to recount? Some that stand out?”

Harry was silent for a moment. “Before I got my letter. I dreamt about a motorcycle. It was flying. There was something fuzzy also. I think there was crying. Maybe some wind? I don’t know what else.”

“That is an interesting dream.”

“And then, after Professor McGonagall took all those points, there was another. I was a baby. There was some green fire and a lot of people. I was put down on the floor, I think it was in the great hall and there was another kid. She had pink hair, like one of Charlie’s friends who took Norbert.”

“Ah, Miss Tonks. Yes. Both of these dreams sound more like memories to me. In fact, I remember both of those occasions quite well.”

Harry looked at him curiously. “Really?”

“Yes. And I shall tell you about them another time. Perhaps next year.” Dumbledore needed to see how true his suspicions were. How much had he done wrong? “Before that, I will allow one more question. After all, I believe we will not have another chance to speak before this summer.”

Harry’s deep green eyes met his. He looked into them and tried to find the courage as he spoke. “Sir, do I have to leave for the summer? Back to the Dursleys?”

Dumbledore looked down and sighed. “I believe it is time you got some rest.”

“But, sir—”

“I shall leave now, as Madam Pomfrey already seems to be getting angry. If you listen to her you should be well enough to join your housemates for the end of year feast. I need to go and prepare myself.”

Not to mention making some plans after all he had learned. 


	4. Chapter 4: Home and Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I will try updating once a week, but won't be able to at all next week due to not having access to my laptop. 

The End of Year Feast went spectacularly. 3/4ths of the school cheered the Gryffindor win, something Dumbledore thought was only fair after all the points the children had lost earlier that year (Hagrid had confessed to him in tears.) Making up those points by rewarding the three who went through the trapdoor was simple. And it was only fair to teach the school a lesson about what Gryffindor bravery truly meant. 

Harry approached Neville after the feast to congratulate him on the points.

“Thanks,” Neville shrugged. “I shouldn’t have tried to stop you. I heard what happened.”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “You did what you thought was right. Dumbledore was right that it was a brave thing to do.”

Neville beamed in response. “Not as brave as you.”

“Nah. I have a hard time arguing with Ron and Hermione. I couldn’t tell them off like that. Not like you didn’t. I’m not confident enough,” Harry said.

“But you stopped You-Know-Who! And went past that Cerberus and faced all kinds of crazy things.”

“Less scary than losing my only friends,” Harry explained. “It takes a lot of heart to stand through all of that.” 

Neville stared at him in disbelief. “You’re Harry Potter, you must have had friends, from before school, and everything. You’re a hero!”

“Doesn’t mean I have friends. You saw what happened when we lost those points,” Harry said, but then grinned. “Guess after this they’ll be a lot nicer to us.”

Neville laughed. “I hope so.”

Harry returned to Ron and Hermione but resolved then to be better to Neville as a friend as well. He would celebrate the end of the exams now that he was out of the hospital wing with Ron and Hermione and enjoy his last days in the magical world. 

Dumbledore did not sleep much that night. He stroked Fawkes as he thought. Harry’s peculiar dreams, among the other revelations he’d had the past few days were factoring in to make a major change for the plans he’d laid out over ten years ago. 

Many children had asked to stay at Hogwarts for the summer. Before he had never truly considered it. As awful as orphanages could be, or the homes of boring relatives were, it was not the same as what Harry seemed to be enduring. Perhaps he had just been blind to other children and it had taken a special student, who had brought out feelings he’d never thought he might have, to make him see it. 

Harry would not be like Tom Riddle, or Severus Snape. Nor would he suffer anymore. Dumbledore was surprised the boy had not become an obscurial. Harry had not felt at home, the blood protection had only worked in part. Yet, Harry had not exhibited the behavior he knew existed in an abused child. No depression, violence, aggressiveness, or any instability. The boy was short and thin, but James and Lily had been the same at that age, as had many other children. 

Then there were Harry’s dreams. It was unusual, but as he thought about it, he decided it was Harry’s power expressing itself at an early age. His magic worked in unusual ways, Dumbledore thought. He would have to do more research, and perhaps keep Harry under better observation. 

Better than Mrs. Figg. He wouldn’t be able to watch Harry at the Dursleys, nor had he easily tried to in the past. But secondhand reports would not do him well. He stood and paced for a few moments, then sat again. He repeated this a few times as he thought hard on the situation. 

It was early morning when he’d made his decision. He would need more information. Though he did not want to have to resort to Harry’s plea until there was no other choice. He would have to compromise. The light was shining through the windows of Hogwarts, and the earliest risers among the portraits were stretching and sitting up to attention as they started to their routines. He looked at the portraits around him. “Would one of you mind going to find Professor McGonagall for me? She should be up by now.” 

This was true at all times of the year, but especially after Exams when she had many papers and tests to grade. Dumbledore knew this plan would need a lot of help to keep all the moving parts in place. Of all the people he depended on for help, Minerva was the best to help with this. 

She had been invested in Harry’s life since the beginning. Sitting on the wall the entire day that November 1st wasn’t even the start. James and Lily had been favorites of her and stayed close by working with the order. She’d watched the boy closely this year as well, but by her apparent shock after the whole stone ordeal, not close enough. There was no choice but to enlist her help in this endeavor. 

He was contemplating Harry’s life again when McGonagall entered through the Gargoyle stairwell. He gestured for her to take a seat opposite him. As she did, he smiled with twinkling eyes, falling into a normal routine for their meetings. “Lemon drop?”

“No, thank you,” she said with slight exasperation. 

“Very well.”

“Now why have you called me here at this time of the morning? There must be some type of emergency and not just one of your eccentric speeches.”

“I suppose you could say it is something of that sort.”

“In the few hours since Mr. Potter has been dismissed from the hospital wing has he gotten into more trouble? Or have the Weasleys twins pulled another prank? Or was it…”

“No Minerva,” he said softly. “Nothing has happened to your Gryffindors in the past few hours.”

The emotions were quick to flicker across her face, proud, exasperated, worry, and pity, before she pulled her face back into the usual stern expression. After Elphinstone, after losing her chance at family and love Minerva had dedicated herself to her nieces, nephews, and students. She didn’t often show it to them, but she cared deeply for her ‘lion cubs,’ and was still feeling guilty after she didn’t believe the three first-years who had come to her for help. 

Finally, she sighed. “So, what is it, Albus? I do have more papers to grade.”

He then sighed as well. “Well, you see Minerva, I have come to the realization I might have made a mistake. One you warned me about many years ago.”

“Your obsession with muggle candies perhaps?” she smirked.

“No. That was never a mistake. They are just as good as any wizard candies. If you tried, then you would find them sweet.”

She rolled her eyes but listened as he continued. “I need you for something else muggle I fear you will find much less sweet. I need you to make a visit to the Dursleys.”

“Potter’s relatives,” she said after a moment. “Albus, you said nothing had happened to him.”

“Not in the last few hours. Yet, when Mr. Potter was in recovery something curious came up. I would like to observe him closely to see what happens. No worries, he shall be in no danger. I just need you to visit the Dursleys and inform them that plans for Harry’s summer have changed. They might be more receptive to you than Hagrid.”

McGonagall raised an eyebrow to combat his tone implying this was less than obvious. Dumbledore ignored her and continued. “This must be kept secret. It is for Harry’s safety.”

McGonagall scoffed voicing her suspicions on the topic. “You told me that ten years ago when you left him on their doorstep!”

“I know,” Albus said. “And that is why it is your help I am enlisting in this.”

She sat and listened as he explained how he wanted to keep observation and then his ensuing plan. It was a sign of her loyalty that she did not question him too much on all of it, though she did she would not do so immediately. Not until the students had safely left the castle and were on their way home. 

She walked up the road in the professional outfit she usually wore for muggle-born visits. It was a sweater over a white blouse and a nice skirt. The road was familiar, the same as it had been for almost twenty-four hours over ten years ago. The house she approached now was exactly the same as well. 

She knocked politely on the door, bracing herself so she didn’t yell the moment the door was opened. Petunia Dursley had approached the door and looked through to see who was knocking, assuming it was another salesperson. However, the women at the door was dressed professionally and looked to be decent. “Yes?”

“Mrs. Dursley?”

“Can I help you?” Petunia asked looking at the woman feeling suspicious. Her beady eyes were usually able to pick out anything that didn’t belong in seconds. She wasn’t able to with this woman just yet, nothing came out at first sight. 

“My name is Professor McGonagall; do you mind if I come in so we may have a conversation?”

Petunia nodded and stood aside trying to remember why she recognized that name. Maybe the professor was famous and had been on the news. As McGonagall sat and Petunia brought in tea, she suddenly realized why she did. The tea tray started to drop as her eyes widened. McGonagall was quick to react drawing her wand as Petunia snarled. “You!”

“Yes?”

“You’re the one who told my sister what she was!”

“Yes,” agreed McGonagall. “That is often my job. Now she will sit civilly and have some tea or – “

“As if people like you could be anything civil,” Petunia said under her breath. McGonagall almost hexed her, hearing it with the sense of a teacher who had taught whispering students for years. 

“What do you want?”

“I’m here to talk about your nephew Harry.”

Petunia scowled. “What about him?”

McGonagall put down her tea and narrowed her eyes as she stood, matching Petunia’s height. That was when Vernon Dursley entered with their son, who was fatter and ruder than any student or child McGonagall had ever seen. Vernon looked and asked, “Petunia, I didn’t know we were having a guest.”

“Neither did I,” Petunia sneered. “She’s from his school.”

“One of them?”

In response, she grasped her wand tightly as she tried not to bite her cheek too hard while she did what Dumbledore asked. “Well, as you know Harry is a special child.”

“You mean one of your kind,” Vernon grumbled. 

“More than that. Professor Dumbledore, the school headmaster, has noticed something and would like to keep Harry at school for a few more weeks as a precaution.”

“Why?” asked Petunia. “What did he do?”

“I’m not paying anything if he caused some sort of damage. I said I wouldn’t pay for anything from the start,” declared Vernon with a puffed-up chest. 

McGonagall sighed. “He and some friends stopped a valuable object from being stolen. He was in the hospital wing for a few days after and there was some more unexpected magic.”

The couple exchanged glances. Behind them stood their son, cowering a little from her. She nodded at him curtly as the couple thought. Petunia watched as Vernon’s mustache twitched and he spoke after another moment of silence. “Was there a reward?” 

“What?” McGonagall asked in shock.

“The boy,” Vernon said simply. “Did he get a reward for saving this valuable thing? There must have been some type of reward?”

McGonagall bit the inside of her cheek harder as she shook her head. “I don’t believe so. If there is, it is Harry’s.”

Vernon Durley’s piggy eyes narrowed to match hers as he huffed. “So then why are you here?”

McGonagall sighed. “To let you know that we wish to keep Harry under our watch for a while. I wanted to make sure I could get anything he needed from home as well.” 

“That’s it?” Petunia asked suspiciously. She grasped at her thin bony hands, then squeezed Vernon’s shoulder nervously. “Will he be coming back soon?”

“You will receive a few days warning if he does,” McGonagall assured her. “Now where is Harry’s room?”

Petunia gave her the directions but stayed downstairs as McGonagall went up to one of the rooms at the end of the hall. It was very bare, except for a bed, desk, and wardrobe. Corners had some broken toys tucked into them, and there were shelves around the top with more. She scowled at that. 

The floorboards creaked as she walked in. On the wall was a calendar with September first circled. She smiled at that but then perused the rest of the room. There was one overly large shirt in the wardrobe, and some socks that needed darning. Harry’s clothes must’ve been with him at school, then. 

She turned to look under the bed when she heard the voices from downstairs. Mostly it was indiscernible, but they seemed excited. She hit her head on the bed-frame when Petunia spoke. “So, our letter worked.”

“Yes. It was a brilliant idea asking him if he could stay there for the summer,” Vernon agreed.

McGonagall stood brushing her skirt to get rid of the dust when she heard the son speak for the first time back. “Do I get my second bedroom back then? If the freak isn’t using it anymore?”

McGonagall gasped and spun around. She checked the room once more to be sure of her suspicions, that Harry had lived there and been happy in this room for the ten years before Hogwarts. All she found were some owl pellets, socks, and more broken toys. No wonder the room was so bare. The broken toys were not Harry’s but belonged to the fat, piggish boy downstairs. 

Huffing she marched down to confront Petunia, who shrieked when she found herself at wand point. Vernon turned purple and started to threaten her, but McGonagall’s stern voice was the clearest thing in the room. “Where did you keep him? His room has barely been lived in.”

“It’s my room,” Dudley whined behind his parents. “Not his.”

“We kept him in the guest room, and he slept there when we had guests!” Petunia said with a smile. Minerva didn’t miss her continuous nervous glances to the hallway. “We didn’t let him decorate it though, because we needed the guests to sleep there.”

“While your son had a second bedroom?” McGonagall snarled. 

“Leave! I’ll call the police right now if you don’t…” Vernon started but McGonagall had already turned to the hall where Petunia was peering. The only thing there was a small table with some more pictures of the fat boy, an ugly vase with flowers, a gaudy mirror, an umbrella holder and coat stand. That was until her eyes fell upon the door under the stairs. 

She unlocked it to see an empty bedframe. There were a few child’s pictures and half ripped report cards hung on the wall. More lost socks left under the bed, all accompanied by lonely little green army men and spiders. It was hard to miss the words carved above the bed, “Harry’s Room,” by a shaky hand she’d seen in essays she’d graded over the past year. 

She spun on them with her wand. The pig hid behind his parents, she was half considering transfiguring all of them then and there. Then she put down her wand and narrowed her eyes and lips in a dangerous expression. “I don’t think Harry will be returning after all. It’s a wonder he’s turned out so well, much better than that fat lump cowering behind you.”

“Dudders? He’s—”

“A spoiled brat. Somehow Harry has retained all of Lily and James’s best attributes, with little thanks from you. I will make sure that is well-known and that he will never have to return here ever again.”

“Good,” Petunia sneered. “I’ve been wanting to be rid of you freaks since the days Lily figured out what she was.”

McGonagall nearly used her wand then. “You’re lucky you are muggles. I will still need to do something about this. That lump of a boy hiding behind you is in danger as much as Harry because of your treatment in my opinion. I’ll be talking to the muggle services immediately.”

Petunia gasped while Vernon growled, turning a deeper violet as Dudley cowered behind them. “You couldn’t possibly. They wouldn’t believe someone like you. I doubt you even know how to—”

“Call them?” McGonagall said with a single raised eyebrow. “You’ll see I know that quite well.”

She waved her wand, hidden discreetly by her long blouse sleeve as she stormed out and left. She had what she needed and neither she nor Harry would ever be returning here again. 


	5. Chapter 5: Home Away From Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry travels home with someone unfamiliarly familiar

Harry felt a nervousness as he finished packing up. Through the train ride, he distracted himself with his friends, games, and snacks. He wore his old clothes from the Dursley’s as he got ready to reenter the muggle world, or at least the one town where he was trapped. At the platform there was a long line to cross through, a man restricted too many people from going at once, so muggle suspicion wasn’t raised. When it was finally time, Ron, Harry, and Hermione crossed through.

He barely hear Ron’s invite for the summer, at least the fifth time he’d issued it. As he looked for his Uncle, Aunt, and Cousin, the next comment Ron made stuck in his mind. _“Still famous.”_

Harry had been nodding politely at all the greetings and farewells, but he knew most of them didn’t really care. At least they did more than the Dursley’s which he shared with Ron. Ron opened his mouth to say something when there was yelling from a little redhead girl, Ron’s younger sister Ginny.

She was just as excited to be at the station as she had been on September 1st, Harry thought in amusement. Ron had mentioned his sister a few times, then got quiet fast. Between him and Hermione hadn’t taken long to put the hints together that Ron missed Ginny, even if he didn’t want to voice it. She was likely his closest companion growing up and being without her could be strange.

Harry knew he would be feeling just as strange without Ron and Hermione at his side. Mrs. Weasley was scolding Ginny for pointing at Harry as they approached. The warm woman was asking questions about their year, and Harry was happy to finally thank her for the gifts earlier in the school year.

There wasn’t a chance to say much else. Harry cringed as the grating tone that he hadn’t heard since September snapped. “Are you ready yet? Dudders is waiting at home alone.”

Aunt Petunia was standing behind him. Mrs. Weasley was trying to talk to her as Ron and Hermione turned to him for final goodbyes.

“It’ll be okay. It’s for two months and you can visit for part of it. I’ll make sure of it,” Ron grinned. His eyes were watching Aunt Petunia warily though, and it took him elbowing Hermione for her to stop scowling at the woman conversing with Mrs. Weasley.

“Um…Have a good holiday,” she said.

Harry steeled himself for the final step out of the world of magic, trying to ignore the nagging feelings. He grinned back at his two best friends. “ _Oh, I will. They don’t know we’re not allowed to use magic at home. I’m going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer…”_

He followed Aunt Petunia out of the train station. The nagging feeling grew as they turned a corner, away from the parking lot. Something wasn’t right. Where was Dudley? There was no way Aunt Petunia would leave him at home alone. She’d have taken the chance to make a day of it for him in London as a treat in recompense for Harry’s return. And Uncle Vernon should be here. His Aunt rarely drove.

The way she had talked to him seemed right, but time might have dulled those horrid memories. His Aunt hadn’t spoken more than a word or two to him since he got his letter. Only glares. It was Uncle Vernon who’d spoken the harsh words to keep Harry in his place that last August.

When they were about to turn again Harry drew his wand. He could feel it in his gut. He stuck it in Aunt Petunia’s back. “How do I know you’re Aunt Petunia? Give me a good answer before I do something or go running back to the station. There are plenty of wizards there who will help me, and even some muggles too.”

“Lower your wand, Mr. Potter,” Aunt Petunia’s voice answered in a tone that wasn’t at all hers. It was still somehow familiar. “Or do you want to ruin years of work and expose magic to all the muggles around here?”

“Who are you?” Harry demanded again jabbing the person’s back with his wand. This person was obviously magic.

“Follow me.”

“Why should I?”

“I will not hurt you. You are right to be wary after everything. I assume you want answers, and so then you will follow me.” The woman set off at a brisk pace and Harry followed, wand still ready as he went over defensive spells. He wasn’t sure what good they would do, now that he knew his DADA teacher had been Voldemort. Still, it kept him focused as he mapped the route to the alley.

In the silence, Harry studied the behavior of the person in front of him. Like him, she was trying to seem natural as they walked, but he could tell she was uncomfortable. She didn’t walk like Aunt Petunia either. Her vulture eyes weren’t searching, and her nose wasn’t raised so haughtily.

She stopped in an alleyway away from any eyes. Harry raised his wand again. “You’re magical. Are you with Voldemort? Is he with you like Quirrell?” Unconsciously he raised a hand to touch his scar.

“Never,” spat the woman. “As good as it is for your safety you are this suspicious, it makes me upset. No child should have to think about not trusting the adults who should care about them. I suppose my acting didn’t help in the least. I couldn’t act disgusted enough with you.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed. “That’s not an answer. I can’t trust you until I know who you are and what you want.”

“Very well. I am here to take you back to Hogwarts under the command of Professor Dumbledore. Something about your conversation with him the other day has made him change his policy. Rightfully so, from what I saw when I went to your relative’s home. I tried to get your stuff but wasn’t able to recover more than a few papers and scraps of clothes.” Those beady eyes leveled at him suspiciously as she spoke. Harry got the feeling that she knew as well as he that it was because the trunk, he was pulling contained all that really mattered. “I needed hair for the potion as well. As accomplished as I am at transformation, Polyjuice Potion does a much better job. No matter how foul it is.”

“I don’t understand,” Harry said shaking his head. It couldn’t be. Dumbledore had said no one stayed over the summer. And there were only a few people who could know about that conversation, those he’d told, and that Dumbledore did. “Professor?”

“Yes. I’m sorry for the deception. As I said, Merlin knows you have enough trust issues as is.” Harry scowled but she continued. “You deserve my proof to ensure that trust. After all, I didn’t trust you when you tried to warn me about the stone.”

Harry lowered his wand as he realized one of his favorite Professors was in front of him. “I still don’t understand what’s happening.”

A bony finger was held up, telling him to wait a moment. Then it started to bubble. The woman moved little as her fingers became slightly fatter. Her face shape changed and instead of looking sallow and puckered, it was with high cheekbones, a stern face, and warm, caring eyes. Her shoulders expanded and she was suddenly slightly shorter. The blond hair drew back into a tight black bun, streaked with gray. Harry did a double-take as Professor McGonagall stood in front of him in Aunt Petunia’s mauve outfit.

“One moment. I’m afraid I can’t take another moment of this monstrosity.” Then with a wave of her wand McGonagall’s clothes transformed back into the usual green robes. “There. I’m afraid Professor Dumbledore didn’t give me enough information to hand you the answers you deserve. You shall have to wait to talk to him. Now, I will create a Portkey to take us to the school grounds. Understood?”

“A portkey?”

“A method of traveling,” McGonagall answered as she pulled out a takeout container.

_“Portus.”_ She scowled at the object as she muttered. “There. Now grab on tight to this and your things.”

Harry felt a pull behind his navel. He squeezed his eyes shut and when he next opened them, he was staring at the wall of the Quidditch Pitch. McGonagall was gracefully arriving next to him, waving her wand to order his scattered things.

“Now, follow me under your cloak. Yes, I know about it.” Her gaze had him shutting up quite promptly as he started to blubber in defensiveness. She finished repacking his trunk, leaving only the cloak out. “Leave the rest of your things, they will be taken up for you.”

“Wait, Professor. I need another answer. What about the Dursleys? Were they coming to the station to get me? I thought I couldn’t be at Hogwarts during the summer. What happened?”

“I don’t know what changed Professor Dumbledore’s mind,” McGonagall said. She put a hand on Harry’s shoulder trying to ignore how tense he got when she did. “I do know that you will never be going back to the Dursleys. I will take you in myself before I allow you to go back to that so-called ‘home.’ You do not need to worry about that.”

Harry stared at her in wonder. He swallowed all the other questions and the bit of hope he had. As they stood in silence, he decided that he would go along with this, because like anything… it was better than the Dursleys. Still, he felt unsure. After another minute, his shoulders slumped a little and he nodded at her, which earned him a thin smile from the teacher. He pulled on his cloak when she pointed to it, and together they walked up the path to the school.

There was no more talking as he followed her through the empty courtyard into the castle. The portraits greeted McGonagall, seemingly alone. She nodded and answered a few questions but was then on her way. Harry followed her quietly, still trying to puzzle out what was happening. He barely noticed anything until they reached the Fat Lady. McGonagall greeted her to the portrait’s surprise, her eyes widened. “Professor! Haven’t you already completed your inspections of the tower?”

“Yes,” McGonagall nodded. “But I believe I forgot my pin inside one of the dorms. Would you mind letting me in?”

“Of course. Just don’t be late for the meeting! It’s hardly normal for the professor to come and ask everyone himself. I wonder why he didn’t do the same with you.”

McGonagall rolled her eyes as she responded to one of the biggest gossips in the castle. “The Professor had some work for me outside of the castle. What was this about a meeting?”

“He sent a message saying you’d be here and told me to tell you that he wants to talk to you. He’s having some kind of meeting. Peculiar, isn’t it?”

“I suppose,” McGonagall agreed with a small raise of the eyebrow. “Now, will you allow me in so I may get my brooch and head to this meeting?”

The portrait swung open, letting Harry follow the Professor inside. In the common room, she waited until the portrait close to do anything. Then she turned swiftly back to Harry. “Very well, Mr. Potter. You may take off the cloak. You will be in your dorm as usual.”

He followed her then into the dorm he’d left just this morning. Inside, pajamas were laid on the bed. Hedwig was perched on the windowsill by the empty cage. His trunk was by the foot of the bed and his stuff was neatly stored. Somehow in the fifteen minutes, it had taken to get up here, his things were all in their proper place. He stroked Hedwig as he looked around the strangely empty dorm.

Ron and Dean’s posters were still here. Yet, the owners were missing. The chatter and arguments between Dean and Seamus, or Neville’s nervous whispering to Trevor were strangely absent. There were no dares or laughs and stupid jokes. Not like this morning, when he’d been so upset about leaving, not knowing he would only be away from _his_ home for less than a day.

McGonagall was smiling as well. “I suppose you will be alright up here alone then?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Good,” she said softly. “Go bathe. Food will be brought for when you do. Then maybe tomorrow morning Professor Dumbledore will be ready to speak to you. Someone will come to fetch you then. I suppose I should hardly need to tell you not to leave here. Understood?”

Harry nodded. He barely noticed McGonagall leaving as he pet Hedwig’s soft downy wings and realized that if she was speaking the truth, there would be going back to the Dursley’s or the muggle world. The place he had first felt he belonged might just be his home for real, one he could not be forced to leave.

This thought laid on his mind as he soaked in warm water, then sat by the fire in the dorm in his comfortable pajamas, eating his favorite roast then finishing off the treacle tart by licking his fingers. He looked at his trunk once again and came to a decision.


	6. Chapter 6: Blindness and Blame

Dumbledore had been walking through the castle for the past half-hour, for once preferring to deliver his own messages instead of through portraits or Fawkes. He’d gotten a few strange looks, especially as the professors were hard at work, grading exams so they may leave for holiday in the same vein as their students. Only a few select people stayed for longer than a few days after the end of the summer term. The others returned a fortnight before the fall term to prepare before the students arrived.

Dumbledore had gone to speak to those few who stayed. Several of them did not have homes outside of Hogwarts, like Professor Trelawney. She stayed in her tower, only coming down to talk in person on the rarest occasions. He was only too happy to let her stay here year-round, a way to keep an eye on her. Others had homes outside where they took short vacations, like Severus to his home at Spinner’s End in Cokeworth or Minerva McGonagall, who still had her home and Hogsmeade and also went to visit her brother, nieces, and nephews. In fact, most of the heads of house stayed at Hogwarts the summer, to choose the prefects and head-boys and head-girls for the next years, as well as discuss other important things for running the school.

Most of the other professors headed off soon after. Madam Hooch took off to go to annual quidditch league training. Professors like Sinistra, Babbling, and Vector all went for their own Holidays. The DADA professor had not lasted until the summer for almost fifty years. The summer was always the time to find a new replacement, one of the first and most important things on Dumbledore’s list besides Harry.

The caretakers of the various parts of the castle, Madams Pince and Pomfrey, Mr. Filch, and Hagrid stayed for the summer. Hagrid took over the care of the magical creatures from Professor Kettleburn, allowing him to go on expeditions. Madam Pomfrey spent the time restocking and going over medical records and the special needs of students for the coming year. She also attended a few sessions at St. Mungo’s to make sure she was up to date in all healing techniques.

There was also, of course, those not living, such as Professor Binns and the many other ghosts that inhabited Hogwarts. Though some of them also traveled over the summer as well. Nearly Headless Nick, for example, was heading to meet the headless hunt to apply once again. Dumbledore knew very well how that would end, but it would not be to the Gryffindor Ghosts satisfaction. The others mostly minded their own business, as Peeves continued to do what he did best to peeve Filch during the summer cleaning.

These few Dumbledore had visited were slightly wary upon the Headmaster’s unusual visit. None had questioned him too much, especially the Heads of House. He met with them once a month and again at the end of each term, though he waited until exams had been graded. Everyone had been busy with their summer work, but a meeting at the end of a term was not too unusual.

As he watched the planets rotating his watch, Dumbledore walked up the stairs from Hagrid’s home back to his own office. He had seen McGonagall arrive with Harry as he went down to the groundskeeper's hut. No doubt she would come to report to him and find an empty office. Still, she would be waiting long enough to be there in attendance for this meeting. Dumbledore hummed pleasantly; happy it was all going well as he had planned.

He was halfway through the castle when he stopped, turning to the walls on either side of him. They were bare of portraits, with a small mirror of rusted bronze on the left and several classroom entrances scattered around. Several of the rooms were barely used, especially as Hogwarts population had shrunk in the time he’d been teaching. Hogwarts was old, and he knew he’d never figure out all of its secrets. Yet, he’d like to think he had started to become accustomed to sensing the castles' moods and little tricks. The magic in the air tingled around him. “Ah, Harry. I see you have arrived safely at Hogwarts then?”

Harry let the cloak fall to his shoulders, peering at the Professor curiously. “How did you know I was here?”

“A feeling,” Dumbledore said simply. “I believe you have settled in?”

Harry nodded, then stopped. He took off the cloak completely, leaving him in slightly oversized striped pajamas. He looked at the Headmaster nervously. “Professor Dumbledore, why exactly am I here? I thought students weren’t allowed to stay at Hogwarts for the summer?”

Dumbledore sighed, seeing he would have to have this conversation earlier than expected. “That is correct.”

“Then why am I here? Did something happen? Or is this about the stone, I thought it was destroyed?”

Dumbledore crossed his legs and sat on the floor. He patted the ground next to him for Harry, who stood for another moment before taking a seat beside him. He stayed quiet as his green eyes met the dim blue of the Professor's own. The Headmaster hummed again. “It was destroyed. As for something happening, well I suppose that something was a conversation I had with you.”

Harry’s eyes widened but he stayed silent otherwise. Dumbledore took this as an opportunity to explain, ignoring the feeling coming from the hope slowly swelling in Harry’s green orbs. “It is late tonight, but I will give you the answers you deserve tomorrow. We will both get answers during your time here over the next few days. It will be temporary, just until we can figure this little puzzle out.”

Harry was not-quite frowning as he studied the headmaster’s face. A quick series of emotions fluttered across his face. There was another moment’s silence, and Harry looked down as he spoke, trying to hide the pleading in his voice. “Then what?”

“You will return home,” Dumbledore said simply, turning away as well. There was silence for another few moments. Dumbledore twisted a ring on his finger, then nodded as he stood. “Now, why don’t you return to Gryffindor Tower? It shall take a little off my mind and both our shoulders if you are safe there. After all, I am sure I just added to that by giving you plenty more to think about.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said in a flat tone as he pulled himself back up, still staring at the ground.

“Good. I shall see you tomorrow. We will talk more then. Good night, Harry.”

“Good Night, Professor.”

Harry threw his cloak back on and tried not to cry as he fled back to the tower. He knew more than anybody how little tears could help. Yet, he’d never had so much hope before entering Hogwarts. To have Dumbledore play with it and destroy it, that hurt just as much as most of the things the Dursley’s had done. Hedwig cooed at him as he reached the dorm, nipping at his ear to comfort him. Harry tucked his head into her feathers allowing himself a few tears as he stroked her.

Not far away another person wasn’t far from crying. McGonagall huffed another time as she was denied entrance to Dumbledore’s office. She’d been waiting since she’d gotten back with Harry, only to be told the headmaster wasn’t there. It had taken almost all the strength she had left not to scream. She paced a few times, swirling once more on her back foot to demand an answer of the gargoyle. “Where is he then?” 

“Gone.”

“I understand that,” McGonagall rolled her eyes in exasperation, it was all she could do besides throwing her hands up in the air and going on an all-out rant. “Gone where? He’s in the castle, yes?”

There was no answer. McGonagall resumed her pacing and started to consider drawing her wand to curse the blasted gargoyle. She could not wait another moment. _This_ time, Dumbledore would listen and then he would tell her the _truth._ She would not be left in the dark a moment longer when it came to the care of her students.

Suddenly, she was distracted from her thoughts by footsteps. Turning, she had two ideas of who it could be, the damned headmaster himself, or Harry repeating the prolictivity he’d inherited from his father for wander out of bed. Instead, she was greeted by Sprout, who smiled brightly at her with a wave. McGonagall didn’t respond, only continuing to glower at the door.

“Now, Minerva, what has you looking so upset? Some particularly bad exams in your pile?” Sprout said approaching her, nonetheless.

“No,” McGonagall said shortly. “It’s Dumbledore and that damned gargoyle. He called a meeting, at least he could be here to have it.”

“It is a bit strange,” agreed Flitwick cheerfully as he appeared with short and quick steps. The other two heads of house turned and looked down to listen. “He doesn’t usually have us meet until after the exams have been graded. What time did he call this meeting for?”

McGonagall didn’t hear the answer, deciding that if the meeting wasn’t just her and Dumbledore it was all for the better. She would have the others to back her up to her advantage. Her mouth thinned into a line as she decided how to approach the subject now that there were to be others involved in the conversation. She stayed silent as the other two heads of house talked, only moving when at 11 O’clock the gargoyle suddenly swung open. She marched straight up the stairs into the headmaster’s office. She was not surprised to find it empty, yet it fueled her anger.

“Really, Minerva, what has gotten into you?” asked Sprout as she appeared from the steps with Flitwick lagging behind. McGonagall was still glaring at the headmaster’s empty desk chair when they entered. Both the others exchanged a quizzical look.

They stood in silence for another five minutes before they were joined by the last head of house. Snape arrived on the heels of Pomfrey, much to the surprise of the others. She looked around, seemingly just as confused. “Is the headmaster not here?”

“No,” McGonagall said sarcastically. “He’s been here this entire time.”

Pomfrey raised an eyebrow, the look was something Minerva did so often herself she felt she may be looking in a mirror. “Very well. He better hurry up then. Severus and I were going over the stocks in the hospital wing, there’s plenty that needs to be brewed and restocked over the summer.”

“I feel there were more injuries this year than normal,” agreed Sprout. She turned toward Pomfrey with a kind and understanding smile. “Let me know if either of you needs something from the greenhouses.”

“Do you know why the headmaster called a meeting then?” Flitwick ventured with an interruption. Pomfrey looked surprised and offered a helpless look. Snape’s eyes flickered, but he showed no other emotion otherwise. The short charms master turned to observe McGonagall closely as she continued her stony silence. “It’s hardly the normal heads of house or staff meeting. Obviously, the reason behind it must also be why Minerva is so upset. You must know something, then.”

Fawkes chirped and flapped his wings in agitation when McGonagall spun again suddenly. “Maybe. Who knows how that man’s head works?” she spat.

“I can’t say I understand it much myself.”

All the heads in the room spun to meet Dumbledore. He glided forward to try and calm Fawkes. He smiled pleasantly at McGonagall as if nothing was wrong and walked behind his desk. “I had forgotten to fetch Hagrid. He will be here shortly, then we can start. I’m sorry to add time to your already long wait.”

He was looking straight at McGonagall now. She raised her eyebrows in a challenge, only to have the headmaster’s normal twinkling eyes look back in response. She was almost relieved when the small talk ended and the others in the room stopped staring at her.

SLAM!

As residents of Hogwarts for so long, they should have been used to Hagrid’s entrances. Most of the time they were able to handle them with grace, though this time Madam Pomfrey, Professors Sprout, and Flitwick jumped back. Hagrid stumbled in. “Sorry, I’m late. Didn’t mean to take so long settlin' the thestrals.”

Dumbledore nodded acquiescingly. He waved his wand and the entrance sealed behind Hagrid. With another wave, several chairs, one larger than normal, appeared around the room. The old man took a seat and gestured for all of them to do so as well.

“So, Dumbledore, why don’t you tell everyone what this meeting is about,” McGonagall said refusing to sit. She stood with her arms crossed behind the chair.

Dumbledore popped a lemon drop in his mouth. “I would like to hear what everyone thinks they are here for.”

“We’re hardly your students anymore. Do you really need to treat us like them?”

“There’s no harm in it. It could be quite fun,” Flitwick said to her appealingly. He scooted a little further back on his chair, swinging his stubby legs into the air. “After all, this is hardly a normal meeting.”

Dumbledore sat back with his palms facing each other like a steeple. He thrummed his fingers against the other one at a time with a small little smile. “Who would like to venture the first guess?”

“Is this about a student? Has something happened?”

“Not Potter again,” Snape said snappishly. “The year is over. The boy and our students are not any of our responsibilities.”

“How can you say something like that?” McGonagall yelled. She looked between him and Dumbledore. “Any student, no matter who they are, should have the care and support they need from us! Wouldn’t you want to know, if, for some reason, a student died over the summer? Don’t you remember what life was like in your last few years as a student? There were family members dying every day, some students didn’t come back from break. Would you not want to know what was happening?”

“Minerva, enough!” Dumbledore interrupted. He stood to match her height, slightly towering over her. “I agree, that perhaps, Severus was a bit callous. Yet, there is no need to match that with anger.”

“I have good reason to be angry. Would you rather I direct it at you instead?” McGonagall replied back. Sprout grabbed her arm and shook her head pleadingly. McGonagall shook her off and sat down, both arms and legs crossed so tightly it seemed she was wound up. She narrowed her eyes but stared back in silence as Dumbledore seated himself again.

“Really, what is all this about?” Pomfrey asked looking between her two colleagues.

“The stone? Besides Poppy, of course, all of us were the ones to provide the protections over it,” Flitwick ventured.

Dumbledore looked at him and hummed. “I suppose one could reason that way. It is more about the aftermath of the entire ordeal.”

“Then Quirrell, I suppose? There must be more questions about that man’s disappearance. I can happily confirm that he was heading toward some sort of breakdown long before this.”

“Yes,” Dumbledore gave a nod at Madam Pomfrey’s direction in agreement. He stood once more, filling the room with more nervous energy. He started to stroke Fawkes with the back of his head as a long-suffering sigh left his mouth. “It will be a good enough explanation. However, Quirrell is not the matter at hand. Professor Sprout’s guess was much more accurate. We are talking about the person who was with Quirrell and caught him red-handed.”

I have brought you in as the heads of house and some of the most present members of the Hogwarts staff.”

The aforementioned staff exchanged glances. Dumbledore continued. “Of course, I am talking about Harry. Severus was correct, this is indeed about him.”

“Harry?” Hagrid asked with wide eyes. He looked around worriedly then turned to Dumbledore pleadingly. “What about him? He didn’t get hurt ‘gain, did he? Not just after he got better.” 

Madam Pomfrey tutted. “I should have kept him in the hospital wing. The boy needs someone to take care of him.”

“Must I repeat myself? He is gone for the summer. None of us need to care for him during the holidays. He is at home,” Snape said with a short snort.

Dumbledore shook his head. “I’m afraid this is where you are wrong. Harry is fine, but Minerva brought Harry back from King’s Cross today. He will be staying here for another week at the least.”

Snape narrowed his eyes. The others in the room had much different reactions. Flitwick was clearly thinking over this new information, while Sprout was gaping. Minerva McGonagall stayed crossed in her chair. It was a stark contrast to Hagrid who was looking around wildly as if Harry was in the room with them. It was Madam Pomfrey who remained calm and spoke, “He’s here for the summer then?”

“Why?” asked Sprout.

Her quiet question wasn’t heard over Snape’s biting remarks. “Why does the boy get this special treatment? No student has ever stayed at Hogwarts over the summer. Why allow it with him?” Snape demanded. He looked away a little, but Dumbledore had managed to catch the resentment and slightly haunted look in his eyes.

Dumbledore took another deep breath bracing himself for the outrage as he evaded answers again. “I’m afraid I can’t give you much of an answer. I am still piecing together a little myself. This will not be a permanent situation. I would like to monitor him for a short time, due to some things Mr. Weasley said while Harry was in recovery.”

McGonagall shot back up again, her arm shook as she pointed at the headmaster accusingly. The entire room stared at her in shock as she yelled. “You! You knew!”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Dumbledore said calmly.

She continued glaring at him resolutely, though he didn’t move at all in response except to meet her eyes. “I will not play this game with you again, Albus. Not after what I saw today. That boy deserves so much better.”

Sprout laid a hand on McGonagall’s arm soothingly, but the taller woman shook her off as she shook with anger. The herbology professor resorted to pleading instead. “Minerva, you must calm down. None of us have a single clue what you’re talking about.”

McGonagall snorted, turning in a sweep with an angry glare to the other heads of house. “Are you sure about that? Albus had admitted Mr. Weasley told him something. Something that had him send me to bring Harry back to Hogwarts. Why not ask him what he knows? I will not be leaving this room without a straight answer this time.”

Flitwick shook his head looking between the headmaster and his deputy. He sounded slightly amused, but not without a tinge of concern when he spoke. “Minerva, we all know Albus isn’t always the most forthcoming. As long as Mr. Potter’s family has approved of his stay there shouldn’t be an issue.”

Instead of calming her, his words had the opposite effect. She snapped looking in a crazed frenzy between Flitwick and Dumbledore. “Family? Is that the right word for them? I suppose if it is, then they approved his stay. In fact, they were happy to have him gone for a while longer. Does a family have no protest at all when told Harry would never be returning?”

“What?” Hagrid asked looking at her worriedly, then back at Dumbledore as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Yer talking ‘bout those muggles. Aren’t yeh? Knew they were no good. How could someone not want Harry!”

Dumbledore held up his hand to ask for silence. He walked forward. “I’m not sure what exactly transpired between you and the Dursleys. However, I’m sure they will be very happy to have Harry back home next week.”

“That place is not a home,” she growled in response marching forward. “Nor are they a family. I have already called the Muggle Police on them. Even if you do plan on returning Harry, they likely will not be there to return him too. If you even try, I’ll take him myself and never let you near him again.”

Dumbledore’s eyes had widened. He studied her trying not to frown while the others asked her what she meant. McGonagall stood silently still shaking with a fixed glare as she was pestered from questions from all sides.

“What did they do? What happened with the Muggles?”

“Harry’s okay? Isn’t he? He’s not hurt?”

“What happened at the house with that family?”

“The police?”

She was crying now as she looked at Dumbledore, her glare turning to a beseeching look. Still, her voice stayed strong as she asked him her questions. “I warned you that night. I should have taken him then, but you said it was the safest place for him. But I need an answer this time. I will not let you get away without one. I must know if you knew any of it. Any at all. I refuse to believe you never even checked up on him.”

Dumbledore sighed looking around at the bewildered staff. He looked sadly at McGonagall but shook his head. “I never did go myself. No. And I’m afraid I still don’t know what you’re talking about, even if I can tell you truthfully, I had reservations as well on that night ten years ago. But I had Arabella Figg watch him well. She reported that Harry is a good child, polite, smart, hardworking, and helpful. He often was seen doing chores for his family. Perhaps, Petunia never spoiled him just as much as her own son. Yet, it seemed he was safe and living a normal life, something he’d never have had in our world.”

Snape scoffed. “Please.”

He was ignored as McGonagall stayed fixed on Dumbledore. “No. He wouldn’t have had a normal life. But he wouldn’t have been living like a house-elf either!”

Hagrid looked at her fearfully squeezing his hands. “A house-elf? I knew those muggles were no good, but…” He trailed off and stopped to blow his nose.

“No good might be an understatement,” McGonagall said spitefully through her tears. “I don’t believe you couldn’t have known. There’s no way he was happy in that home Albus. He slept in a cupboard!”

“So, the boy-who-lived suffered and lived in a small room. Perhaps that is what kept his head from getting as large as his father’s,” Snape commented snidely.

He was fully unprepared for McGonagall to whirl on him, jabbing him repeatedly with her wand as she spoke. “You will not speak of James Potter that way. You had your issues in school, but he died a hero. He would’ve have done anything for his son and wife. He did! But Lily and James Potter’s sacrifice doesn’t matter as much to the rest of the world as the Boy-Who-Lived! Yet, he’s never acted like a spoiled celebrity, believing the world revolves around him! How could he? He’s never thought he matters. I doubt the thought even occurred after the way he was raised. He was kept in a literal cupboard under the stairs! Shoved in there like cleaning rags and forgotten pieces.”

There were gasps and Hagrid’s tears grew wilder as he pounded his fist against his knee, talking about how Harry deserved better. Sprout’s eyes welled up with tears as she stared in shock. Pomfrey had a hand to her mouth but looked otherwise unsurprised. Flitwick was looking down somberly, though not until after he glanced at Snape to see the man turn away haughtily with no sign of regret. McGonagall leveled her gaze back at Dumbledore. “Now, can you tell me honestly that you had no idea how he lived all those years?”

The man himself was looking down until she spoke to him. He looked up at her with a small shake of the head. “Maybe, you are right to blame me. I was so ready to believe I was doing the right thing, that it seems I blinded myself. But even then, I had suspicions. Mr. Weasley did raise them with his comments, but I ignored them in favor of something. Another rabbit hole and useless dream to chase. I continued to believe that Petunia could forgive and forget. She loved Lily once, I thought the tragic death and situation of her son would reignite that. Then the blood wards would keep him safe. Yet I was wrong, and the wards are nothing without the feeling of home that powers them. I thought and thought, yet I did nothing. For that I am sorry.”

“Sorry is not enough Albus,” McGonagall answered harshly.

“Well-deserved,” Dumbledore agreed somberly. He looked at the other professors. “I believe this meeting has given us much to think about. We will leave the subject for tonight. I believe we will all need the time before any attempt to recollect in the morning.”

McGonagall scowled but sighed after another moment. She could feel Snape’s eyes on her neck, but when she turned, he was already gone. All that was left to see was the end of his black robe slinking down the stairs like a snake. The others departed slowly. Hagrid was stumbling as he still cried and mumbled to himself, while Professor Flitwick, barely able to reach the large man’s hand patted it consolingly. Pomfrey was tutting as she made her way back to the Hospital wing. Sprout had given a sad smile to McGonagall and squeezed her hand in support. The deputy exchanged one last look with the headmaster before she swept back out leaving the old headmaster alone to collapse into his chair.


	7. Sorry Sighs and Long Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being gone for so long. I've been very busy this semester, and all my writing talent has been focused on classes. I will keep writing fanfic when I have the time, and I'm sorry I might be inconsistent with posting.

** Chapter 7: Sorry Sighs and Long Nights **

There was little sleep to be found in the castle that night. Each of the people in that meeting had been kept up by their thoughts. What they had failed to see before haunted them. It was hard to transplant the image of Harry Potter, son of James and Lily, for a poor boy who had never really known what it meant to have love or even a home. Some coped with it well, others not so much.

Flitwick had been reluctant to leave the sobbing giant alone. He’d accompanied him all the way down to the ground floor before Hagrid had turned to him to ask if he wanted to come get a drink. Flitwick did not usually drink. In fact, when he usually went to the three broomsticks, he got a cherry syrup soda with ice and an umbrella. Tonight however, as Hagrid downed some mulled mead, in the form of at least six different large tankards, Flitwick indulged himself with one shot of Firewhiskey.

It made a funny picture, the giant squeezed into the corner and the little man with legs hanging over his chair coughing as he put down his glass. It was their sizes that made the way they drank alcohol so different, Hagrid needed at least two pints to even feel a little buzzed while the one shot did it for Flitwick.

Still, by the end of the night he was much more sober than Hagrid. Flitwick awkwardly patted the trembling back, reaching as high as he could in an attempt to comfort his fellow staff member.

“I’m s’rry,” Hagrid sobbed taking another gulp of mead. “It’s just that…. Harry! I was the one to get him from Godric’s Hollow. I should ‘ave known!”

“How could you have?” Flitwick said soothingly. He himself wondered how he hadn’t spotted it. There were always quiet children, but Harry asked very little of his teachers. It was strange now that he thought of it.

“It was just James an’ Lily.” Hagrid hiccupped and wiped his tears. “Some of the bes’ witch and wizard I’ve ever met. Good ones. None of ‘em deserved it. Not a bit! Leas’ o’ all, Harry. He’s a good one. I knew that from the first. Just like I knew how awful those muggles were.”

Flitwick assured the man once again Hagrid had taken Harry to his relatives. The only other choice had been Sirius Black, who would have been much worse. “I ‘ad his motorbike. He gave it to me fer Harry that nigh’. Just shows wha’ I knew.”

“It’s in the past. Now, is different. You can help Harry. He trusts you. You’re his friend, correct?” Flitwick said pushing the strangeness of the thought of Sirius Black not attacking Hagrid and killing Harry on sight that night away for the moment.

Hagrid nodded, accentuating it with another hiccup.

“Good. Then, that’s what you need to keep in mind. Not what’s happened, but what will.”

Hagrid sloshed one of his mead bottles as he lifted it. “For Harry.”

Flitwick raised his own glass. “For Harry.”

In her own room, tucked away in a room attached to the greenhouses, sat Pomona Sprout. She was thinking of the behavior she had seen exhibited by Harry as well. The boy answered when called upon, usually correctly, but never asked or outright raised his hand like Ms. Granger. He spoke quietly and she had seen he had experiencing gardening (part of his chores, she assumed.)

She would have to talk to those who knew him better to learn more. There were many things she could be missing, beside the risky behavior shown in going after the stone, abused and neglected kids showed many signs: performance issues in class, underachieving, anxiety, a lack of a drive, being wary on who to trust as well, not to mention the self-esteem issues.

She was usually the one to help the other heads of house deal with such situations. They were teachers, protecting students was their jobs. It was an initiative she’d started herself after hearing stories of others in the past. The past five years it had gone well.

Students were put with appropriate relatives if they could be found. If not, families were asked to foster and host them for the summer, muggles and wizards alike. Many times, it was friends’ homes, but with others it was the houses of wizards and witches Pomona knew she could trust. It seemed right now the headmaster wasn’t one of those people. Not if he’d put Harry in that house. She would have to do some investigating.

Across the castle Minerva McGonagall was also thinking of such a program. She knew well that some of her students had had troubled lives at home. Many times, she had not been able to do much, but gave support when they needed it. Her mind wandered to Sirius Black for a moment, thinking if it was possible that awful home was the root of his betrayal. It was heartbreaking, especially when the Potters’ had been the ones to take him in.

Those boys had exasperated her, but she had loved them. Now there was only one truly left, and Harry, James and Lily’s son. She would do what she could for them, for him.

McGonagall turned the corner, doing as she always did when she was worried about her students, patrolling the hall outside Gryffindor tower. She’d walked in a few times to check on the dorms, as well, though never entered. She started to walk, trying a planned route. She would have to think how to get away if the Headmaster persisted in his foolishness. With the boy’s invisibility cloak and her Animagus form getting out of the castle should be easy enough. Where they would go after was the issues. Remus was an idea, though risky. Dumbledore also knew about her cottage and her brother’s home. She could resort to others, and she had started to think of the names of families who had helped her and Pomona with other children in need before.

Hogwarts was supposed to be a safe haven, safe for any who needed refuge of any sort. The fact that Harry had not gotten it would be remedied. She had helped many students; Hogwarts had been their rescue. If not the castle, the professors themselves. That’s what would happen now.

Far below her was a pacing Severus Snape. He’d barely been able to focus on his potions as he rethought the events in the Headmaster’s office. It was true Petunia had always been awful. He’d spent many summers having to endure her spying and nagging with Lily, as they tried to make Cokeworth seem as magical as Hogwarts. Many years had passed, but he doubted the woman had changed. She had started to loathe her sister by the end of his friendship with Lily, it was unlikely that had changed.

Still, he could not imagine that James Potter’s child was not as bigheaded and self-absorbed as his father. Living with Petunia might have only strenghted that. She was fairly selfish herself. It was hardly plausible the boy lived in a closet, or that he suffered in childhood like Severus had. Dumbledore would not have allowed the child to go through such things. It was part of his blatant favoritism. He helped children escape their homes, but barely Slytherin families and purebloods. Severus knew it was those families’ influence that kept it from happening, but it felt unfair.

It all was. Severus once again pictured Lily, that red hair and those bright green eyes. The way she had been there to protect him from Potter and his pals, how she’d get excited about a new piece of magic or new potion, the way she laughed and just how much she’d cared. Severus slammed his fist down on the deck and made up his mind once and for all as he started his trek up from the dungeons.

In his office, floors above, sat Albus Dumbledore. Fawkes had flown to perch on his shoulder and rubbed his head against the withered cheek of his owner. His red plume was sprinkled with the first of the tears to fall from Albus Dumbledore’s now dull eyes. He gave a great sob as he heard the Gargoyle close behind McGonagall.

He had been blinded again, blinded by the greater good. He had failed to protect those who needed him, again. It was not a foolish dream this time, but the fact he had turned his head, thinking he was doing the best. Somehow, that made it just as worse, if not even more so. Harry Potter had the world’s fate in his hands, and Dumbledore had been the one tasked with his care, yet he failed. There was a flaw in his plan, a flaw too large to be ignored. The flaw was he cared for the boy, as Mr. Weasley has pointed out in the hospital wing. 

It might not seem so, for he’d failed miserably in every way. He’d never followed up after that morning ten years ago, nor had he even taken a look at the family he was leaving the boy with in the first place. He had been so excited about the idea that he could protect the boy from those that would do him harm with blood wards that he’d failed to think of everything else.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known about Petunia’s feelings on Lily, but he had ignored them. He had explained it all away, wishing for the best. The best for the world, but never the boy. He had pulled strings and organized things, wanting to give the boy a normal life, one where he would not have such self-importance by knowing he’d saved the world as a baby. Yet, in doing so, in crafting this noble child, he’d hurt him.

Petunia took him, putting the blood wards into effect just somewhat. Yet, Harry’s inability to feel at home made them almost ineffective as well. Petunia’s acceptance and the blood wards could be easily broken.

Yet Dumbledore, detaching himself for the greater good as he had always done had put the boy in that home. However, was there a need for him to return? Harry had awoken something in him this year, a feeling that he hadn’t had since he’d had to care for Ariana. The likelihood Harry could die was all to big. Yet, remembering the boy weak in a hospital bed after his fight all Dumbledore wanted to do was save him from his fate.

He had made a decision. Harry was too important. His plan would work, perhaps he hadn’t thought it through enough, but the parts in place had worked somewhat. Now he just needed to see the rest through.

As he was thinking this through, Severus Snape burst back into the office. Dumbledore had stopped crying but wiped his face again before turning around to greet the man pleasantly. “Severus, I thought you might be sleeping at an hour such as this.”

“No. I find sleep evades me, like any reasoning behind all of your nonsense,” Snape said sharply sweeping into the room to stare down at Dumbledore. The main tilted his head at him quizzically, a gesture for the younger man to explain. Snape’s mouth soured. “Minerva was right. You enjoy your games too much. I thought you would keep up with your favoritism with the boy. After all, you coddled him and rewarded his stupidity by giving Gryffindor the house cup.”

Then, you put him with Petunia, who hates magic more than anything on earth. How you thought that might end well eludes, for surely you wanted the boy to get the care and pampering he deserves? I have no answer. It still eludes me. I had thought we were meant to protect him, yet you threw him in with what might as well be manticores.”

Severus had paced as he spoked, constantly turning to look at Dumbledore with his snarl, furled eyebrows and deep black-eyed glare. Dumbledore sighed. “I’m afraid being my favorite does not have the perks you might expect Severus. I had a good reason for placing Harry there. You know as well as I that Voldemort’s followers would be all too happy to be able to get their hands on him. The blood wards prevented that. He was kept safe.”

“I would not call it safe,” Severus Snape spat. He shook his head, his greasy black hair wildly moved in a nonexistent wind even when he stopped. He turned quickly back at Dumbledore. “You made a slip, old man. You admitted the blood wards do not work perfectly without the boy’s acceptance as well.”

“True, enough.”

“Then, why? It hasn’t made the boy any less big-headed or spoiled. He’s still found out how famous he is. He seems happy to bask in it as well. You have chosen your pawn, your favorite piece. I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone else felt the same, happy to give him everything he wants.”

Dumbledore shook his head now looking slightly amused. He stroked Fawkes again before the bird flew back to his perch. “You are right that I chose Harry as my pawn. Perhaps I have expressed slight favoritism, but as I said before that is not what you think. However, you are wrong about him being spoiled. Harry has acted anything but. You see too much of James in his looks, but I have read somewhere that the eyes are windows to the soul.”

Snape flinched as if he had been struck.

Dumbledore held up his hand, giving an acquiescing nod. “I believe that is enough for tonight, Severus. We both still have a lot to think about. Or should I say, we both have much to rethink. You have kept too long of a grudge to see clearly Severus. You think I was rewarding the house cup to Gryffindor out of favoritism. No? There’s a simple answer.

“Your house did not deserve it. Minerva was a bit too harsh taking all those points from the children on the night they were caught out. However, it was not only her. I’ve heard the complaints for years on your bias. You might want to think, if you did give the same amount of points to any house for the questions they answered, perhaps I wouldn’t have needed to take the cup for Slytherin. I’ve given you many chances and many years. So, as I said we both have much to rethink.”

Snape glared at Dumbledore again for a few moments and then turned swiftly to leave, with a whirl of his black cloak he was gone. Dumbledore was left alone again, to think about the two very similar but different boys and their fates.

Meanwhile, the subject of their conversation slept in Gryffindor Tower. Hedwig had flown off to hunt leaving Harry alone in the large dorm. The open window let the wind blow through the stone room, rustling the boy’s messy hair. He barely felt the interruption, taking it to be another part of his dream.

_Harry’s hands were on a broomstick, or at least one was. The other reached for the clouds to the amusement of someone behind him. Harry wasn’t alone on the broom, there was an arm around him, a bigger hand just in front of his on the broom’s handle. Harry turned back to see dark hair rustling in the wind, like his own. The glasses glinted in the sunlight, but the man just laughed and nustled his face into Harry’s hair._

_“One more minute,” James Potter told his son. “Or you mom will be getting upset.”_

_They flew lazily around the stands on the pitch, stopping to twirl around the goal hoop. James winked and threw Harry through one, only able to because he sat with his arms ready to catch his son from both sides. Once he did, he descended slowly to meet the disapproving frown of his wife, who uncrossed her arms to hold them out for her son._

_Harry shook his head himself. “Boom! Boom!”_

_“Not now, sweetheart.” Lily marched away with her son in her arms, turning with a sweep of her red hair. James ran a hand through his own racing to catch up. Harry laughed looking back at his father and copied the movement, ruffling his own hair. Lily huffed turning around again to face James. “Why does our son have to be your miniature?”_

_James opened his mouth to answer but Lily stopped him. “No, I don’t want to hear it. You were lucky enough I gave you permission to take Harry flying, because it won’t be happening again.”_

_“I’m sorry, Lils. I was careful, promise. I know it looked bad, but he loved it. He’s a flyer. You said it yourself, he takes after me in that way.”_

_“A lot of ways it seems,” Lily said unamused._

_James caught up to his wife and son now that they were stopped. He put his arm around both of them and kissed her hair. She looked up at him with the same glare, but he only laughed. “He’s more yours than mine. It’s those eyes.”_

_“He’s your twin, we all know it.”_

_“He’s ours,” James said with a decided finality. He took Harry back in one arm and put the other around Lily steering her back towards the castle. “Come on, let’s go set Harry up before everyone else arrives for the meeting. It’s going to be a long night.”_

_Harry asked his father once more about the broom, but was distracted as they reached the castle and by the sound of James and Lily’s voices. He looked between them as they bantered with a bit of amusement as they headed through the courtyard to the castle’s entrance._

_McGonagall greeted them inside, happily saying a hello to Harry with a grin. She didn’t reach for him, even as it looked like she might. Harry smiled back babbling a little. She looked between James and Lily herself as she spoke. “He gets bigger every time I see him. It seems yesterday you were all students here yourselves.”_

_“It’s only been a few years,” Lily said softly but she seemed a bit sad._

_“it seems longer,” James said in agreement squeezing her shoulder._

_“Well, Hogwarts is always happy to welcome students home,” McGonagall replied. She smiled down at Harry again and turned to smirk at James. “I saw you flying with him. When he arrives will I have another player for Gryffindor?”_

_“You can bet on it.”_

_James was nudged by Lily, which he responded to with an affronted look. She smiled back at McGonagall herself. “We’re trying not to make those decisions for him just yet. Harry will have to discover things for himself when he gets here. Not just live our lives over again.”_

_“No,” James agreed. “He’ll be so much better.”_


	8. Chapter 8: Failures, Follies and Faults

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Some lines for Dumbledore taken from his speech at the end OOTP. Entire paragraphs done so put in italics. Those and Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling

Dumbledore had not slept. He doubted many of his colleagues had as well. He was proven right when he walked up to Gryffindor Tower. Sitting at the foot of the stairs of the boys’ dormitories was a cat. He waited a moment before speaking to it. He did not want to be made a fool of again. (None of the other staff would let him forget the several times he mistook another cat for Minerva.) However, it occurred to him only Mrs. Norris would still be at school and this was not her.

“Shall you be resigning your job at Hogwarts to be a guard cat?” he tried to joke as he sat on the stone steps beside her.

The cat glared up at him before transforming into a woman who’s glare was just as frightening if not more. “I’m thinking about it.”

Dumbledore sighed which made the Transfiguration Professor prickle as she straightened her back and looked away. He reached to pat her hand which made her even more tense. “I suppose you are planning to get Harry and run then?”

“Possibly.”

“Is there no way I can dissuade you?” he asked earnestly. His blue eyes sparkled with a mix of guilt, hope and pleading as he turned to her. “May I at least apologize before you leave?”

McGonagall pursed her lips. It obviously hurt her to go against her long-time friend and mentor in such a fashion. Dumbledore waited patiently as she thought on her answer. It took a minute before she sighed, her shoulders releasing some tension. “I’m not sure you deserve the chance.”

Dumbledore sighed as well. “You may be right. I have waited too long to say something, or to even look at what has been happening around me. So I ask you this not for me but for Harry. Before you take him from this safe haven and his friends let me apologize. Let me do this for him.”

There was silence for another few moments between the two professors on the stone stairs. For a moment Dumbledore’s mind wandered enough to question why his second-in-command liked to sit on hard stone in her cat form instead of the comfortable chairs of the common room. He did not have the chance to come up with an answer before McGonagall huffed, drawing his attention. “Very well. But if you talk to him I must be there as well.”

“But of course.”

She nodded and both stood up, heading to the dorm in which Harry slept. She stood at the door for a few moments contemplating how to wake the boy. The doors to the boys dorms were rarely closed, so it was a surprise to see the barrier there. McGonagall sighed and decided to knock, giving the door a few loud raps. She was content when she heard the hooting of an owl, then a boy’s voice telling said owl to calm down.

There were a few noises, then a second later the door opened to a tired looking boy. He looked up at the professor with an unsure expression. She decided to make the first move, smiling gently. “Good morning, Harry.”

“Good morning Professor.”

“You slept well I hope?” she asked.

Harry looked surprised by the question. He nodded quickly and looked down. Judging by the tired bags under his eyes he was not as well rested as he pretended to be. She sighed and nodded, then started down the stairs before changing her mind. She turned suddenly, her robes sweeping along with her and reached out to grasp Harry’s shoulders.

Harry flinched away for a millisecond before relaxing. McGonagall almost did as well, her usually steady expression shaken. She schooled herself and made sure she had the boys attention. “You are not alone in your confusion. Professor Dumbledore would not tell his reasons. He is downstairs now waiting, where he will give us both an explanation.”

Harry’s eyes widened and snapped down the stairs. “Oh.”

“He has needed to do that several times over the past twenty four hours. I do not understand his reasoning. I do not agree with it. When I brought you here from King’s Cross, I made you a promise.” As she spoke, Harry’s eyes turned back to her now looking at her almost hopefully. “And if I get my way you will never see those miserable excuses for human beings again.”

“I get to stay?”

McGonagall scowled. “As I said, the professor seems to have changed his mind and policy. I know he had planned on making it temporary, but hopefully I have changed his mind. If he hasn’t, it will not matter. You will not be going back anyway.”

Harry nodded and satisfied, she did as well before turning back down the stairwell. When she reached the bottom she fixed a glare at Dumbledore before moving out of the way to allow Harry to walk forward.

Dumbledore smiled welcomingly at Harry and gestured for him to come sit. Harry did so apprehensively. The entire time McGonagall time stayed protectively over his shoulder, continuing to give Dumbledore threatening looks. The Headmaster seemed to ignore her and turned to Harry. “Harry, I welcome you back to Hogwarts after your short time away. Your trip went well?”

“Yes,” Harry nodded agreeably.

“Good. I expect Professor McGonagall gave you quite the surprise.” McGonagall narrowed her eyes at her colleague for this statement. He smiled kindly at her in response. “And I suppose it gave you many questions as well. I shall guess the chief one is why you have been returned to Hogwarts. Am I correct?”

Harry nodded again.

Dumbledore gave him an inperceptible once over before continuing his monologue. “Well then, I suppose the story begins the night you faced Lord Voldemort to rescue the stone. Your friend Mr. Weasley had a few words to say to me, but what interested me most was his statement about your dreams.”

“My dreams?” Harry said in surprise before he could stop himself. He stopped and looked at the man across from him guiltily. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It is no issue. It is an unexpected answer. Why would I return you to Hogwarts because of dreams? The idea first came to me when we spoke in the Hospital Wing. You told me about a dream you had. Then I responded that these dreams were most likely memories. As it is a bit strange, to simply put it, to remember the occurrences of something that happened when you were less than two years of age, I became interested. I garnered this needed study, I needed to figure out what the appearance of these dreams meant and why it is you have them. I could not do this with you at the Dursleys I had you returned to the only other place, I thought safe. Hogwarts.”

“You want to know about my dreams?”

“That topic has become a matter of less importance,” Dumbledore said somberly. “Because I learnt of something I’ve rarely heard in my long life. Do you know what that was Harry?”

Harry shook his head. Dumbledore smiled sadly. “I was informed I was wrong. The Dursleys were not safe. Hogwarts had not been safe. You were put in danger in both these places because of one person. Not Lord Voldemort, but me.”

Harry looked at him confused. “Professor?”

“I owe you a proper apology. An apology, and an explanation of the mistakes of an old man. I am sorry I did not see my folly. This fall, when you arrived at Hogwarts you seemed, safe and whole, all as I planned and intended when I left you at the Dursleys ten years ago. Again, during our conversation in the hospital wing I explained the protection you were under there. Your mother’s blood keeps you safe. It casts a protective barrier. One that has kept you safe for the past ten years of your life. At least, this is what I thought.”

“I still don’t understand,” Harry said looking up at the professor confused. “You told me being at the Dursley’s kept me safe from Voldemort.”

“Yes. The protection was at least strong enough for that, yet still it faltered. You admitted this yourself, having seen strange people, other witches and wizards, who should not have been able to approach you. The Wizarding world wanted to see you.

“This was another reason I thought to place you with the Dursleys. You deserved a normal childhood without the pressure of fame and the expectations of the great magic that would come from the boy who defeated one of the most feared wizards of all time.

“However, in seeking to protect you from the over-abundance of attention, I made sure you were given a life with the opposite, neglect.” Here Dumbledore looked up, his eyes swimming with guilt and tears. His hand shook as he reached out to grasp Harry’s, bringing the boy’s eyes to meet his own. “And this is where my apology really starts. Eleven years ago I was warned of the Dursley’s unsuitability by the woman standing so protectively behind you.”

Harry looked over his back to McGonagall. “You?”

“Yes. And I was right. I am only sorry I did not do more to keep you from living in a cupboard for ten years,” she said with some anger and sadness choking her voice. “I could have checked in on you. I might have known before. Yet, I did nothing. I am just as guilty.”

Harry blinked up at her and then at Dumbledore looking between them confusedly. “I thought you knew?”

“What?” McGonagall said looking at him shocked. “Of course not. I would not let any child go through that with my knowledge. What would give you that idea?”

“The letters,” Harry said softly. He sunk further into the crimson cushions as he looked down. “They were addressed to me, to my cupboard.”

Dumbledore sighed. “I am afraid we had no knowledge of your plight. The letters are addressed by a magical quill, working solely on its own. So Professor McGonagall holds no blame here.”

“I believe I do,” she said. “I should be checking those letters before they are sent out.”

“A matter to address later,” Dumbledore told her sternly. He turned back to Harry. “So as you see, I am the one at fault. I was warned, and yet I left you on that doorstep knowingly. At the time, the world was in chaos and my priority above all was to keep you alive. Voldemort’s supporters would want revenge. Many of them were still at large – and of those plenty of those are almost as terrible as he. I had to make a decision, one that would impact things that happened in the years ahead.

“As dangerous as Voldemort’s followers were, I knew he would return, though not when: ten, twenty or fifty years. I was sure, once he did, he would not rest until he killed you. You witnessed that last week.”

He could see McGonagall starting to pay more attention, as the man she worked with gave more reasons for some of his decisions than he had for the past decade. He ignored it in favor of continuing his story. “I explained this partially to you before. _I knew that Voldemort’s knowledge of magic is perhaps more extensive than nay wizard alive. I knew that even my most complex and powerful protective spells and charms were unlikely to be invincible if he ever returned to full power._

_“But I knew too. Where Voldemort was weak. And so I made my decision. You would be protected by an ancient magic of which he knows, which he despises, and which he has always, therefore, underestimated—to his cost. I am speaking, of course, of the fact that your mother died to save you. She gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows in your veins to this day. I put my trust, therefore, in your mother’s blood. I delivered you to her sister, her only remaining relative.”_

“But if it works on love….” Harry trailed off looking away for a moment. When he turned back his face was steeled. “She doesn’t love me.”

“Perhaps not,” Dumbledore agreed watching McGonagall rub the boy’s shoulder comfortingly. “I had hoped she could. After all, she took you. _She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. You mother’s sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield I could give you.”_

_“I still don’t—”_

_“While you can still call home the place where your mother’s blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort. He shed her blood, but it lives on in you and her sister. Her blood became your refugre. You need return there only once a year, but as long as you can still call it home, there he cannot hurt you. Your aunt knows this. I explained what I had done in the letter I left, with you, on her doorstep. She knows that allowing you houseroom may have well kept you alive for the past decade._

Harry frowned. “I knew she knew about magic, but she knew about this?”

“Yes. Sadly, she did interpret the meaning of giving you a home in the same way as I. I said so before, but I chose to ignore any warnings or signs. Hagrid said something when he delivered your letter. For several years, your neighbor Arabella Figg has been reporting to me saying you and your family were perhaps not the happiest together. Yet, according to all reports you were living a normal life, and a safe one.”

“Mrs. Figg is a witch?” Harry gaped at Dumbledore.

“Not a witch. She is something called a squib, a child born to wizard parents with no magical powers of their own. She has been doing jobs for me in the muggle world for years. She was all too happy to watch you for the past five or six years.

“The fault there is I never checked on you myself, nor looked further into the suspicions brought to my attention. I was satisfied when you arrived at Hogwarts. You seemed to be a normal boy despite the new attentions, shying away from them in fact. You have _risen magnificently to the challenge that faced you, and sooner—much sooner – than I had anticpated you found yourself face-to-face with Voldemort. You survived again. You did more. You delayed his return to full power and strength. You fought a man’s fight. I am…prouder of you than I can say.”_

Harry blushed and looked down, though one could still see the small smile tugging at his lips. “Thank you.”

“Yes. You rose up and showed all of us, especially me, what a wonderful person you have become. Even with all your hardships, you have not succumbed to darkness and hate like many before. Instead you embraced this new world, found your friends and feelings like love and hope. This is where the problem lies.”

“What do you mean?” McGonagall asked suspiciously. “Would you rather he go around cursing people like You-Know-Who and yelling at anyone who dares speak to him?”

“No. All I meant was in Harry’s acceptance of his place in our world, the Dursley’s was no longer Harry’s only option for a home. He had found one here, at Hogwarts. The already weak wards were broken, as proved to me by the findings of the last day. You could never feel at home there again. This has left you vulnerable, without protection during the summer.”

“So, I’m not going back?” Harry asked looking at Dumbledore confused. He turned to McGonagall hopefully and it was when he heard her sigh of relief he realized the older man was nodding.

Harry wanted to cheer. He was confused and bewildered, but the knowledge he would never have to return to his aunt and uncles was almost everything he had ever dreamed about. Then a thought crossed his mind, “So what now?”

“As I said, you are a special case requiring special protection. Still, you are a child, only eleven, much too young to have faced as much as you have. The mental and emotional burdens placed on you as an orphan, exasperated by your time with your aunt and uncle, not to mention Lord Voldemort. He has been weakened by your encounter, and therefore, Hogwarts will be safe for now. It will give you the chance to be safe, as well as for us to figure out these dreams of yours, and for me to earn your forgiveness,” Dumbledore said letting the first tear drop into his beard, which shook with a sad chuckle. “I may not earn it, but I will try. I shall be working to find other options for protection, but until then Hogwarts will welcome you as your home.”


End file.
